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Click herethe blinding sunset fades; and
soon, i am moon-mesmerized,
as if posed in quiet splendor
for a brooding sculptor who
carves his art with tools crueler
than any whips, ropes or chains.
grim wolves suffuse my vision;
eagles wheel in the purple sky.
i taste the forest's greenness -
its hot pulse is in my throat.
his chisel scores my flat stone;
my wet clay molds his totem.
primal chaos fills the lungs:
i have the sight; i have a
purpose; the Revelator
comes near. i kneel in darkness.